Freak Show
by Telturwen
Summary: Circus!AU. Regulus Black wants desperately to do something more with his life, but the family has a reputation to maintain and they've already lost one son.


Part of the **Year Long Scavenger Hunt** ([E08] _Write a circus!AU with Regulus Black playing a role in some way_ ) on HPFC.

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 **Freak Show**

Regulus Black looked down the tightrope, knowing he would be fine but psyching himself out like always. Walburga put a hand on his shoulder.

"Come now, Regulus. It's just a walk," she said, and pushed him off the platform onto the tightrope.

It was easy enough, almost like walking along a street curb. Then, you knew you had solid ground below you. If you fell here...

No, the Black family was known for their trapeze artistry and their ambitious nature required them to erase all nets from below the act, because it sold more tickets, they said. It made the show more exciting, they said.

When he made it across to the other platform, he watched as his mother swung her way toward him on the trapeze. Then he looked down. His parents had taught him never to look down during an act. But his eyes were transfixed on the scene below.

Sirius was holding a thick leather whip, flicking it now and then, circling a giant male lion. It growled low in its throat as Sirius cracked the whip in the air above the beast's head. Sirius must have said something, because the lion let loose a monstrous roar that echoed through the entire tent.

"Regulus!" his father yelled. "Don't get distracted, son."

Orion was famous in some circles and, among the Black family, his reputation for the trade was legend.

Regulus continued the routine, as he had memorized every scene by this time. He looked down frequently at his brother, who had been putting on a show but was now hugging the lion's enormous, furry mane. The lion was licking Sirius' face like a lapdog. Sirius was laughing.

Regulus often wished that he could do something different with his life. Not lion taming, surely, but something else. He was good at what he did. In fact, his father was grooming him to be his legacy, which is why there was little incentive to branch off. Sirius had never been able to fit the life of an acrobat. He could walk the tightrope with the best of them, but he had no love for it. When he went to the ringmaster to ask for a change in course, he had passed by the lion's cage and had fallen in love immediately. He had never looked back, and Walburga and Orion had never looked at Sirius again. Regulus' brother had been their great hope, and he had had only a taste of their life and "spat on it," as his father had said.

Climbing down the ladder to the tent's open floor, he gazed around at the many scenes. A long line of impressive entertainers, the Potters were well known for their training of wild animals. They had taught Sirius all he knew, and they treated him like a second son.

Regulus looked across the tent at the contortionists and jugglers. The Malfoys were a proud family, and their dedication to the art was long-standing—they had been doing it for about as long as the Blacks had been acrobats.

The Weasleys were beyond the Malfoys, practicing for tomorrow's show. There were a million of them, and that must have been the only way they got their plates to continue to spin on the poles. At dinner the other night, Lucius Malfoy had said that he was certain the Weasleys were in the wrong profession. He said they should have been the clowns that stuff themselves into a car. Everyone had laughed, but Regulus thought it was in poor taste.

An odd bunch were the Lestrange troupe. They were renowned knife-throwers, but there was something in their eyes, something that made them seem far too dangerous. No one liked to eat with them—that was, except for Bellatrix. His cousin was infatuated with the youngest, Rodolphus. It wouldn't last.

When Regulus had gotten to the very edge of the tent, a stampede of horses came galloping in from the opening at the front. They were followed by a band of misfits—the ones Orion, in hushed voices, called "Mudbloods," because they always seemed to have both on them at the end of a show. The horses circled the ring in the middle of the tent in a graceful arc. The Mudbloods gathered in the center—there were at least five of them, each holding a tether. They attached their tethers to the horses' bits and began their beautiful act.

Regulus watched in amazement. He had always been fascinated by the Mudblood's show. It was magical.

"It's time for dinner." Regulus turned on his heels to find his mother and father looking at him with narrowed eyes. "Come."

They made their way out of the tent where the horses had come from. Regulus looked back at the horses prancing in a circle with their little masters directing them. He sighed.

"Coming, mother."


End file.
